Facets of the Moon
by lunar-kunoichi
Summary: She doesn't want to be cold and emotionless. But the life of a kunoichi can do that to a person
1. Autumn Breeze

The sky was dark, the sun concealed from sight by void-black clouds. It reflected the mood of the sad day, the girl thought, as if the sky were crying for one who was lost. But the Konoha ninja were wrong. She was very much alive.

They were crying, just like the sky. All of them gathered together around a photo of her, the single monument marking her 'passing'. The girl stood in the crowd of black-clothed figures, and yet they did not sense their friend was still breathing, and living. Had their emotions not said so, this would certainly mark them as failures of Shinobi.

Gentle, cutting winds combed the grass-covered clearing all around the figures, tempting leaves to leave their binds. And with the promise, a few did, betraying their mother root and trunk, leaving her to expire. But she would still live long after them. One of the leaves landed on the girl's outstretched palm, and without thought, she crushed it, letting cold juices run onto her bare hand.

It was ironic, the girl thought. The leaf represented her in ways no human did. Yes, she had run away, with the promise of power, but even before she'd left the gates, the girl had decided against it again. And carefully, she'd returned to her bed. And yet, power had tempted her, and still tried to draw her away from her birthplace, the Leaf. But unlike her counterpart, the girl had stayed.

If only her family had agreed with her choice. Perhaps they wished her to find power also, before going to her namesake – if she were allowed, with the numbers she had killed. They threatened her, even disowned her, but the girl had simply dropped their claim on her with one simple stroke of the brush. She gave a cruel smile.

The girl wondered of her ability to let go of the past, if she should return here. Her teammates had always cheered her on, but they moved so quickly ahead, in their lives, in their careers, it seemed she was always glancing at their backs. At first, it had been a few steps, then more, and then almost a mile. And the girl wondered if she was still so far behind them.

Then, with almost no effort, she pushed away the thoughts. They were not right, in her point of view. She was no longer weak, no matter what they thought. Even though her small family had pushed her away, almost succeeded in their attempt to kill her for no reason she could see, the girl had not complied with their wishes. Briefly, she wondered what others would think of her change.

Once, she had adorned a shade of red, but now, she dressed for comfort. Her hair was still cut in the style, though not necessarily length, it had once been, and yet tied for efficiency. And she, yet again, wondered what her teammates would say if they saw the light grey jacket and shorts she wore, and still wore underneath the dark cloak concealing her identity.

But for the moment, she looked straight ahead and listened to the sermon given by the priest. Then finally, he reached the end.

"This kunoichi, loved by all, will never be forgotten."

She wondered if they really meant that, from the youth up ahead, giving no thoughts of his emotion. The young woman, did not know if he really gave one of his precious thoughts to the fact that 'she had died', or any emotions to the 'tragedy'.

Then she remembered that, despite all her _other _team mate said, he _did _have emotions – they were just well hidden. And she herself knew it also, from the few times she'd seen him give a tiny smile.

A _miko_ came, and carefully brought the photo to a nearby shrine, where she put it under blessing, much like all those other pictures lying neatly beside it. Water from a sacred river, blessed by the priests, was tipped over the photo, much like others would do for the _Buddha_ on his birthday. This amused the young woman to some extent. She was no holy angel.

She slipped out when the funeral dissipated, carefully avoiding her team mates and not bothering to put on a flower. But later, when no one was around, she glanced in again, a small smile reaching her lips when she found her elaborately written name. It was hard to miss, the young woman realised, and yet did not stand out too much to draw unwanted attention.

And there she stood until the sun went down, when she finally realised cold had seeped through her traveller's coat, jacket and thermals underneath. And the young woman realised she needed to be more careful about the temperature in the early-autumn days, before the leaves fell. There was temptation to remove her clothes completely and bath in the fresh breezes, but she sensed another person before her plan could be put into action.

The girl shook her head, leaving to go back to her rented apartment. It was not the best time to move too much, in case one she knew found her there perfectly alive. Unless it was a certain blonde, the girl doubted the person would believe she were a ghost. Would she be taken as missing nin? Probably.

Now the girl gave a smile. Had she told her story to someone else, they would never have guessed it were her. The young woman would not have seemed that type to leave and search for power. But everyone had their little secrets, their ambitions. Even the lazy geniuses. And her private thoughts were just slightly stronger than others.

The girl would not call her journey's end a gateway to heaven, but in some ways, that was just what it was.


	2. Sea Foam

It astounded her to no end how long it took for the supposedly 'elite' ninja to recognise her disguise. Those she once looked up to, the woman now scorned, for their abilities. For they had once, an era ago, called her weak and skill less. They say her as one with no potential in almost all areas but one, which could easily be quelled. The woman gave a smile. They were ones to talk.

That genius everyone recognised had been nowhere near close to guessing her identity. Even with his _unique abilities,_ the boy had had no luck at breeching her wall of deception. And the woman lived there in the village for years before those who were once her closest companions even came close to breaking her shell, the wall between her emotions and her actions.

And then, something else had been offered to the woman. But she refused to accept their measly exchange for the use of her body. As any of her former friends would say, the woman considered herself to be expendable only to a certain extent.

Her thoughts raged back to the former train. The woman was amazed those who were chasing her had not recognised her. While she had not too great beauty or any other attractive features, she did not believe she was one to fade into memories forever. They were supposed to be the best the country could offer, and yet pit against her, they were useless. Yet if they were, why was she running from the grasps of the Shinobi hunters?

The woman did not know.

She moved gracefully through the woods, trying to escape without inflicting injury (_for it was not as it they could reach her in their puny skills and power)_ on those who trailed her footsteps like spaniels, and yet for completely different reasons. She did not brush even a leaf, leaving almost no trace of herself behind. And yet, to their credit, the ANBU continued to follow the woman, to the edge of the woods where land met sea, and ripples buoyed the fruits of the harmony up and down for eternity.

It truly had not been the best of her ideas to loosen up the hold around her identity. She should have known, the woman chided herself, that the man was keeping an eye on her, though for what reason she could not understand. He, the infamous bastard without emotions. He, the one who said she was useless all through their Genin careers together, was paying her attention. For no reason she could specify. It was not as if she were a beauty, for he had never glimpsed the face – or at least the believed it, and she was rarely wrong – or had displayed some unique talent.

The man had once said she reminded him of someone he knew years before, in the decades not yet swallowed up in the whirling sea of time. Those years, he told the woman, were some of his best, and he would not see them fade away from his memory and his mind without telling anyone. A few moments later, he had left abruptly for a chance at ANBU.

It seemed the man had become powerful enough to make up for the loss of his team mate, the woman found as she strayed up in the poles of the arena were a few drills and endurance tests were held. She knew it was hard, but she felt little pity for the men – even she had enough power to join, and she had not gone through the procedures, even known of them, before the moment.

Her former team mate, of course, had done wonderfully as expected, breezing through and doing his name proud. There had been no hesitation in the selections, and he had been the first to be announced as 'passed'. And that smirk on his face was ever-present in the ceremony, even as those precious to him looked on - perhaps it was because they looked on that he smirked. The woman knew not.

As strange as if was, or perhaps not, the woman could see he was one of those chasing her. She did not think too much of it– it were not as if he could catch her. The woman could (and did) take time to glance through spaces between trunks of trees to the dull green of the sea.

Crisp breezes skimmed the edges of the water, creating waves so smooth it drew her in and onto its surface. Of course, the ANBU followed tirelessly. But she knew, like her, they were only human, and would not follow forever like she'd feared earlier in the chase.

Waves bobbed around her ankles, seeping into the edges of her sandals, but the woman did not mind. She just gave a tiny smile as the ANBU landed onto the rougher waters. She barely paid attention to their gestures, moving further and further away from the land until it visible no more, and with her speed, even the ANBU were specks in the horizon. The fiery sunset provided a backdrop of daring, as she gave another burst of speed, and even the specks vanished in the smooth walk.

Her long hair had come out of the ponytail, and accompanied the wind in swirling around her. She had long since discarded her cloak. And even in the chill, the woman did not regret it, as the short kimono draped over her thin body flapped against her thighs, just an inch below her swirling hair.

Sea foam bobbed around her ankles, riding in and out on the knee-height waves. It was so white, the woman realised, as pure as newly fallen snow and as soft as a feather, falling from the heavens. She added more chakra to the soles of her feet until she rose above the short-lived accessory the waves seemed to love. The woman did not realise it, but she was like a nymph, using the cool water as her adornments, moving so smoothly they seemed like one.

She did not move until the last second when the four-man team of ANBU reached her. She was dancing, for an unknown reason, and she could see the hurt and confusion flowing into the eyes of the man as she did so. It was as if he had come across some action he could not understand; but had he never set eyes on the pattern of movement that was a dance? His emotions were there, for once, and his eyes told all (_they would, it was his bloodline)._

"Why!" he demanded, drawing out a weapon. "Why did you hide your identity? Why did you run away." And then, he sounded defeated, even as he raised the katana, "Why did you not stay for me?" _(And yet, even with his eyes, he could not find answers for himself)_

"You are too arrogant." The woman replied, speaking for the first time in months, and she would say not more. Her glance was one of amusement, for he dared use her element against her. _(The man should have known she used weapons, for she had since her very first days. And he'd taken it all in, and yet not remembered)_

His katana came flying at her, even though it was not his natural form of fighting. His team mates waited, and the woman smiled at his impudence, grasping his weapon in a moment, and taking control of it the next. And the moment after that, the man's mask was knocked off. The look on his face, the amazement, was priceless, she thought. _(He really was a wonderful friend, now putting everything before friendship. Was it what had happened to their relationship when she left?)_

Her speed was such that even the elite saw not her movements, as she slashed the neck of one of the ANBU without a thought with barely any need to ignore the sickening rip of flesh. Blood was dripping down the edge of the sword, running in droplets and steams, almost like raindrops, before any knew what had happened, and the man sank down the waters, tainting the pureness, crimson red. _(Bloodied like her heart. They were no longer the innocent ones they had once been…)_

Sea foam washed over the body, his lifeless eyes glancing dully at the heavens. Briefly, she wondered if he were experiencing an ordeal for all he had killed. Fizzing rang at the ANBU's feet, as if the sea foam were mocking him, saying even its life were longer than his. The woman did not care or wonder, but proceeded until the other three were dead also, leaving just her and her team mate standing there coldly, trying not to let their relationship get in the way _(the missions, the betrayal, they had changed his and her bond before it had started, really)_

"You…" the man said in amazement, not even noticing he was in his traditional fighting style and ready to strike, "Are you really my team mate? She was never that strong!"

The woman did not even crack a smile at his 'startling' discovery. She raised what was formerly his weapon, and motioned for him to come. It was time to rid herself of all bonds, before she could float on the sea through eons, perhaps not immortal, but ever recurring like the wind and waves. And all it took was a mocking smile and he came, to defend his pride, and towards his death _(And she wonders if she really wanted it to end this way)_.

In the end, the woman knew they were all like sea foam, their lives nothing to the vastness to their race, the impact they made as small. Their lives were spent in vain, before the river of time washed away all traces of them forever, leaving not an artefact for curious minds that ventured into the past through words and symbols. They weren't enough to be considered tools, just an artefact to the world _(for quite frankly, who would remember them after they're gone?)._

And yet, defying all odds, she knew the world had changed already, through their ventures, exploits and unspoken words to those they held dear. Just like the fizzing and coolness of sea foam a hot summer day, someone had glimpsed their world, and would remember after they were gone. Their names would be lost in the seas of knowledge and history, and yet they would still be there, long after the world was dead to them, and they were dead to the world. _(Their friends would remember – right?)_

She thrust the blade through the man's back, before sinking down from the exhaustion of her chakra – she'd had been training for a in-exhaustively before they came to find her. Sea foam washed around her body, from the points of her toes, until slowly, even the very edge of her hair was underneath the coolness. Yes, her life had been like sea foam, sly and short-lived, always slipping though her fingers. And yet… not quite. Her body swept out into the ocean, and she wondered if she'd ever reach her namesake.


	3. Golden Spiral

It was dark, and she could see nothing as she sank further down beneath the waves. Her team mate's ghostly eyes were closed, and yet haunted her even when she shut her vision, trying to turn away the sight. The woman could not retreat from this haunting image of accusation, which pierced her almost to her very core… but the hardness of her soul had taken away most pain, and she felt nothing.

Coolness rushed though her hair, soaking into what material she wore not already drenched. Water was usually refined and caught by gravity in this form. Liquid always dripped down rapidly to the earth, forming beautifully geometrical shapes. But here, in its own element, tides replaced the breezes the woman loved so much, whispering in a flow rather than whistle she was used to.

Gravity was but a speck, still present as it always was, but dulled greatly by the buoyancy of this liquid, a source of life for all human. The woman swam as if she were flying, arranging her arms as if she were diving, the spreading them out in wide arcs, swimming, and yet with all the patterns of flight. For her element was up on land – here, her weapons would corrode.

In her mind, she was free even though the woman was caught by the fragile yet strong binds of a miracle liquid. For there was nothing to hold her to the village she once adored and would have given her life to, no evidence She'd survived the attack of the ANBU chasing her… and they were right, weren't they?

From down here, sea foam was no longer visible, the only bubbles those of transparent breath. It was as if she were exempt from the cycle of life, the golden spiral that caught everyone in its mindless twirl, just what was in between. There was no tug of bonds here.

It was as if she were not alive nor dead, but somewhere in between in a mystical land of eternity, where time simply was not, and nothing changed for the better, but neither for the worst. It was steady, and stayed for eons longer than the solid Konoha, longer than perhaps even the earth – for who knows what humans could do to their world? But this place was forever, and yet less than a moment.

It was the conscious of a person before death.

She'd always heard that her life flashes before a person when he dies, and she had wondered almost as long the number of memories it would take to remember each and every person she had killed. Would their thoughts and emotions have filled the air around them in a spiritual way, their very souls floating though the winding road from their births in the past to their deaths now? Would those thoughts and emotions have crushed her with their intensity, bearing the lasts sparks of life a person felt?

Would any of them curse her before they died, so that those last hopes could act on something, fuelled with the pressure of hopes, dreams, disappointments, anger, revenge, hate, and rarely, love? The woman had never really believed in those old wives tales, but this particular story she always kept in her heart when she took a life meant to live on. And so, although she was not a generous or merciful person, she did not kill if she could help it.

The woman did not want those thoughts tracing her whereabouts, discovering her greatest fears, then exploiting them when she was weakest – namely, she had once believed, the moment of her death. But she felt no pain nor vulnerability, really, for she had nothing pending left behind in this world. She was already twenty-two years old, not ancient for her people, but one with a long life. Though now some of the events she triggered haunted her, she accepted her death in this moment. No. Although she was going through a period all humans, would have to.

It was strange, really, how much her view of life had changed.

The first day at the Academy, this woman had cried because a boy claimed girls were useless. Back then, her father had seemed to be a pillar, forever standing against the winds of time, never fading out until the end of an era. And to her, it still was, for the day her parent died had been the end of an eon of her conscious. She _knew_, but the knowledge was shaken by the sudden change. How could anything be the same after he died? She would hear no longer his deep laugh, booming voice and gentle smiles. She would feel no longer a kiss on her forehead at night not the comfort of a warm embrace when things got tough.

But the woman survived. But the blank she had once had of 'death' was filled with nothing but 'father' now, the innocent view lost – but it had been before that, really.

And even the life from the Academy to her first close death had overlapped with other disappointments and tragedies, criss-crossing and hiding the true beauty of life. The failing of her first Chuunin Exams. The Sound Invasion. They were all examples of illusions cast on life. But she had not understood, and called them 'the worst that ever happened'. And they were, really. But she had been able to see past them, and she regretted it.

And then, had been the time she _was_ promoted to Chuunin. She'd been fifteen at the time, graduating earlier than the other three teams of Konoha Shinobi. It had also been when more news had come of a certain Missing Nin slightly younger than her. But happiness filled her spirits then, and the scene of death changed until it was filled with friends – for she could not imagine the pain their deaths, being the last one standing to grieve.

But now… she was experiencing the pain of death itself… and it wasn't pain at all but the dreaminess of a rest after days drawn out through missions, through training, though sweeping winds, and days spent lying around in the sun. And though she accepted it, she knew it was the end – there was nothing more after this.

A face caught her glimmer from below… it was her team mate.

There was something about him that brought the rush of emotions back again.

There was something about him that changed her.

He was lying on a reef of rock. This stance told all – he was already long dead… but still the sight provoked her memories back, those warm fuzzy days spent together. They were gone now, but…

((_You are too stubborn… as likely to budge as a mule. Would you really give in?))_

She could still hold on to that memory until this swept her away in it arms to eternal sleep under the shadows. She could still remember this scene, this life…

She could still have hope to come… for the first time in years…

"Thank you…"


End file.
